


Endgame Ending Variant

by TheUltracheese



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, Sad Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-03
Updated: 2019-08-03
Packaged: 2020-07-29 21:31:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20089087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheUltracheese/pseuds/TheUltracheese
Summary: Just a minor twist on the end of Endgame. To be clear, I like how Endgame ends. The balance of sacrifice and reward is solid and makes the most sense in the narrative arc of the MCU. This is just playing around with an alternate climax (that is totes inferior to what actually happens) for the sole purpose of wringing out a teensy bit more entertainment.





	Endgame Ending Variant

Amidst the heat and chaos of battle, Tony Stark froze, his mouth slightly agape.

Danvers had first appeared to him five years ago as a being of light, a humanoid inexplicably flying through space under her own power. His initial thought had been that his slowly suffocating brain was producing a trite hallucination meant to induce him to calmly depart from this world. (Honestly, as an atheist, this just seems disrespectful; could we shut down the spiritual fireworks, please?) But she had not disappeared no matter how much he shook his head, thick though it was with exhaustion and cold. Carol Danvers, a human floating in space wearing a simple flight suit and radiating boundless cosmic energy, had single-handedly saved Tony’s life and carried him and an entire spaceship back to Earth, to oxygen, to Pepper.

So no, Tony was not surprised to see Danvers giving Thanos as good as he gave and a bit more. But it was a staggering thing to witness nonetheless. And the eerie silence that had enveloped the area suggested to Tony that he was not the only one frozen in anticipation, wondering which of the two titans would manage to press an advantage and turn the tide of the battle.

Suddenly, Danvers went flying. Hard. A strangled cry of disbelief bubbled up at the back of Tony’s throat; he hadn’t seen what Thanos had done to fire her away so explosively. Tony’s knees went slack, and in that moment, and he did not see a neighboring Chitauri swing its arms wide. It smashed a gnarled mace, electric blue with a hidden energy source crackling within, against the side of Tony’s helmet.

Tony was blown sideways, sprawled on the ground with his face down and his vision obscured.

“Get up, get up, get up,” he frantically whispered at his suit or perhaps himself.

The heads-up display had jittered for just one second, but Tony could feel from the slight compression at the side of his face that his helmet had taken some serious damage. He flipped over, repulsors ready to blast off his attacker’s inevitable follow-through.

Instead, the Chitauri was dead at his boots and Steve Rogers was dragging Tony up to his feet, shaking him slightly and pressing his face in close, shouting something. Tony only heard a loud ringing and his own voice, which sounded as if he were speaking through a mile of PVC pipe.

“Jesus, Cap! What; what is it?!”

“They can be removed. I can do this; Tony, give me one of your gloves.”

Tony blinked and willed his eyes to focus on the swimming form in front of him. “FRIDAY, canopy.” His helmet snapped open with a small electrical burst at the left side (not good) and Tony took a good look at Steve Rogers through his own eyes: lines of sweat carved through the thick layer of soot that covered the Avenger’s face, bringing into greater relief the sharp lines that were etched between Rogers’ brows. “What can be removed? Rogers, I’m not giving you-”

“I’m going to rush Thanos, but I’m no Carol Danvers; I can’t hold him for long, and that’s the point. I just need one of your gloves and five seconds up close to the guy, then I need you to distract Thanos with a repulsor blast to the head.”

“What?! No. Nuh-uh. I’m not making you bait then making myself bait while I’ve got one fewer repulsor. ‘Whatever it takes’ doesn’t mean pointless suicide, Rogers; where do you even come up with these terrible -”

The two Avengers simultaneously broke away from one another to confront a contingent of Chitauri that had reached them while they had been shouting. While Rogers dispatched them easily with an acrobatic combination of shield thrusts and sharp kicks, Tony lost precious seconds trying to get his mask back down, producing only additional sparks at the left neck joint.

“Sir, the canopy has been compromised.”

“You’re killin’ me, FRIDAY.”

Tony rammed an armored fist into the last Chitauri that had escaped the boomerang of Rogers’ shield. The Chitauri burbled wetly as it dropped its pike, but then lunged forward, long dirty nails plunging into Tony’s uncovered face. Rogers advanced from behind with his shield in both hands and, with a whirl, razored the Chitauri’s head clean off.

Tony blinked the alien’s blood out of his eyes, staggered by the uncharacteristic brutality Captain America had just displayed. The world around him seemed to slow to a crawl as he fingered the electrical and crush damage at the side of his helmet, the ringing in his head growing louder. Or was that an elevated heart rate alert from his suit?

Rogers threw the limp Chitauri body away and advanced once again on Tony, pinning him firmly at the shoulders and waiting while Tony fought to control his breathing. The world that had been paused spooled rapidly back to the present. When Rogers finally spoke, his voice was quiet.

“Tony. Do you trust me?”

Something stirred at the back of Tony’s brain. He had never not trusted Steve Rogers. That’s why he hated him for refusing to sign the Accords. He knew full well that Rogers felt the same pain Tony did when the Avengers killed innocents; but he also knew that Rogers had the strength to face the families, to mourn with them, and to continue fighting the good fight. Steve Rogers would face that terrible possibility the same way he faced every challenge where the odds were stacked against him: with eyes open and arms outstretched, leaning into hope and hard work.

Tony had said the Accords were a way to put a check on the Avengers, but what he really wanted was a check on himself. “This document just shifts the blame,” Rogers had said, reaching right into the bleeding heart of the matter. Fuck him, Tony had thought.

Steve Rogers had refused to sign because he believed that Tony was just as capable of taking responsibility as he was. And that hard-won faith Rogers had in Tony, faith that he was capable of living with the pain and loss of his own failures, somehow made Tony feel even smaller. Tony Stark had grown up resentful in the shadow of a perfect older brother he had never known, a super soldier his father had helped to create and positively worshipped. Howard Stark’s zingiest lectures to his son always concluded with a comparison of his shortcomings to Captain America. Yet Steve Rogers trusted him - more than Tony trusted himself. And that had been the problem. Tony wasn’t ready to believe he could be the person Steve Rogers saw in him.

“Tony?” Another little shake. Tony looked up into Steve’s face.

“You were right about the Accords.”

“What?”

Tony twitched his index finger just so and his left gauntlet began to resize itself for removal.

“I trust you, Rogers. I always have.”

Steve looked down, surprise etched between his brows. He took Tony’s left hand in both of his to remove the gauntlet.

“I’m okay with this, Tony.”

“I know you are. It’s why I hate you.”

A small smile crept across the older Avenger’s face as the gauntlet adjusted and fastened itself to his hand and forearm. Tony wondered if he looked as lost and desperate as he felt.

“Give me five seconds. Then aim for his head.”

Tony nodded. It was all he could do.

“And don’t get yourself killed,” added Rogers, clapping Tony on the non-sparking side of his damaged helmet.

Captain America was off and running before Tony could make a sound. He zoomed like an arrow straight at Thanos, and Tony recognized the cold fingers of panic as they crept toward his heart. He shakily positioned himself behind some debris and readied his one repulsor hand to strike Thanos when the time was right. Sure enough, Steve Rogers barreled down on Thanos’s gauntlet, clinging to it and striking at it with his shield as Thanos waved his gloved arm wildly. Tony shook as he forced himself to wait.

Five. Set right repulsor to maximum damage.

Four. FRIDAY, draw power down from all other parts of the unit. Redirect to right repulsor.

Three. Yes, FRIDAY, I know; auto-defenses offline. Do it!

Two. Tony felt his gauntlet vibrate with built-up energy. His hand grew warm and numb underneath.

Before he was ready, Thanos’ free hand came down and struck Steve Rogers with all his might. The Avenger went flying, limp, over a pile of bodies. A scream came from Tony and he shot up from his hiding spot without thinking and discharged the repulsor at Thanos’ head. Without power to the other Iron Man systems, Tony felt his shoulder wrench back from the ricochet; heard the tinkling sound metal made as it settled following exposure to an enormous heat source. The suit would need time to regain power, time Tony didn’t have. His eyes searched the ground where Cap had fallen and saw no movement there; his vision, however, was soon taken up by the full size of Thanos who, after shaking his head and howling with pain, had turned to Tony with eyes blazing.

“Enough! You could not live with your own failure. Where did that bring you? Back to me. I thought by eliminating half of life, the other half would thrive. But you've shown me, that's impossible. And as long as there are those that remember what was, there will always be those that are unable to accept what can be. They will refuse what is best for them.”

Tony had never felt more exposed in his life, his left hand unarmored and his canopy broken as Thanos slowly strode over to him. He missed the gentle weight displacement the Iron Man suit normally offered and felt his knees threaten to buckle under the full weight of the armor.

“Yep,” he groaned, “We're all kinds of stubborn.”

“I’m thankful,” replied Thanos, now upon Tony. “Because now, I know what I must do.” Thanos placed massive fingers on Tony’s helmet and gently pulled it off, pulverizing it between his thumb and forefinger. “I will shred this universe down to its last atom. And then, with the stones you've collected for me, create a new one.”

Tony’s brain whirred with panic. They had all thought Thanos could not take more than he already had. How stupid they had been. Thanos shook the dust of Iron Man’s helmet from his fingers and looked into Tony’s face with the pained expression of a disappointed father.

“I offered you peace, but you did not want it. You resisted. Now I will design a universe suited to living in peace.” Placing his free hand heavily on Tony’s shoulder, Thanos looked deeply into the face of a man out of hope and time. “Because I. Am. Inevitable. As death itself.”

Tony closed his eyes and thought only of Pepper as Thanos raised the gauntlet to the sky, and brought his fingers together in a snap.

CLANK.

Tony‘s eyes flew open.

“You got part of that right,” called a familiar voice.  
Tony searched around frantically and his eyes landed on Cap, sitting on the ground and propped up painfully against a fragment of his own shield that had been driven into the dirt. Steve Rogers dragged his left arm, with Tony’s gauntlet, into view. Inexplicably, all six stones were there.

“I’ve cheated death before.”

He snapped his fingers.

Without a sound, Thanos’s troops were rendered to ash, their souls sucked away into a nothingless void. Tony watched in muted horror as Rogers shook uncontrollably, writhing through the continued energy discharge of the stones. Thanos himself merely turned to face Rogers, sadness etched in his features, which slowly lost their distinctiveness as his atoms were shred apart. Sitting on the ground like a petulant child, Thanos closed his eyes as his body slowly reduced to silent, swirling embers that mixed with the bloodied dirt of the battlefield.

Tony ejected from his armor and ran forward at full speed. He fell to his knees and wrenched the smoking Iron Man gauntlet off Rogers’ hand and immediately regretted it - chunks of flesh had come with it. Steve Rogers was staring off into the middle distance. Tony cupped Rogers’ chin with his hand to gingerly turn the Avenger’s head and bring his line of sight back to Tony’s own face.

“Cap? Cap. Com’on. Stay with me, buddy. You always did before.” Rogers made no reply, his chest heaving slowly and his eyes still distant. Tony impulsively took Rogers’ good hand in his and squeezed tightly.

Heavy-lidded eyes slid up to Tony’s face, full of sadness. When Steve’s voice came, it was wet and ragged. “Not,” he labored, “after Sokovia.” As Tony’s insides went cold, he felt rather than saw the other Avengers falling in, arriving to huddle in a semi-circle around Rogers and hold their breath.

“Nope. Not true,” replied Tony, shaking his head. “Couldn’t get rid of you even then.” He blinked fast to send hot tears out of his eyes and down his cheeks. He needed to focus on this face. “I carried that stupid little flip phone of yours around every moment of every day after you left.”

Rogers’ face had gone slack, but the smallest indication of a smile pulled at the corners of his mouth.

At the sound of thundering steps, Tony tore his eyes away and realized that Bucky had come running up from out of nowhere. He fell to Steve’s other side, cradling the back of his best friend’s head. Steve took in a shuddering breath and looked up at all who had gathered round, then turned to Bucky. Tony started to pull slightly away, recognizing an intimacy he could not take part in. To his surprise, Steve returned the pressure Tony had been applying to his hand, and Tony stayed.

Bucky leaned in and spoke softly. “It’s okay, Steve. We’re gonna be okay.” He paused for breath. “Say ‘hi’ to Peggy for me, alright?”

Steve’s brow cleared, softened.

The pressure on Tony’s hand slackened, and his face crumpled.


End file.
